


there's no such thing as gloomy endings (i'll forever meet you in this memory)

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Heavy Angst, M/M, nooo... i didnt self project unto daichi what do u mean haha, sad!Daichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:42:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24071599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He'd always been on his own, really.But lately, it seems the loneliness and bittersweet memories accompany and cling onto Daichi every day.
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	there's no such thing as gloomy endings (i'll forever meet you in this memory)

**Author's Note:**

> i was feeling down in the dumps last night, and so this came to be.

Daichi, more than anything in the world, hates feeling alone.

He hates how empty his apartment feels when he arrives, how he got used to navigating and living in dark rooms, and how extremely loud he could hear his thoughts every day, as if he actually spoke each word out loud, echoing through the empty living room that is too big for someone who lives alone.

Daichi hates going to his apartment. He hates it so much that he spends hours outside after work strolling through parks and trying to look for coffee shops and restaurants he hasn’t gone to before, always heading back when his watch beeps at 8pm.

Daichi opens the door to his dark apartment with a sigh and routinely takes his shoes off, places his car keys and bag on the island counter, heading to the bathroom for a cold shower. He stares at the mirror before doing anything else, not to look at himself, but to read the little Post-it stuck on it, reading the handwritten words over and over and over and over until it lost its meaning.

‘Smile, my love!’ is what it says, paired with a crookedly drawn heart.

He still can’t.

Daichi enters the shower with a weight on his shoulders, like an anchor pulling him down to the ground.

He does this promptly, and proceeds to change into his pajamas before laying on his bed, hair still cold and damp, drops of water seeping through his pillow sheet. For someone who’s on the muscular and averagely tall side, the bed feels a tad bit too big for him to be alone.

He stares up at the ceiling, arms sprawled out to each side of the bed. He listens to the voice messages that were sent to him earlier, since he stopped receiving texts and calls after work. He lets the sound of people’s voices break the deafening silence until he’s listened to every single one.

_“Yo! Just called to remind you not to forget, okay? Tomorrow at the library café. Miss you man.”_

_“Sawamura-san, I know we don’t speak much at work, but I got the flu and remembered your offer to take on my shift when I truly need to. I’m on patrol duty tomorrow, and I recall Chief Kashino saying he’ll find someone to cover for you should you take my shift. I’m very sorry for the trouble, and thank you so much.”_

_“H..hello? I don’t even know why I’m calling.”_

The last message ends abruptly, and Daichi is startled at the voice he thinks it belongs to. His breath stays at a steady pace for a few minutes before he feels a tear roll down the side of his face. He lets out a shaky breath then, before curling into himself as he felt the empty feeling envelope him like a blanket that can’t help keep him warm. He clenches his fist and smacks the area where his heart ought to be, hoping the physical pain of his fist slamming against his chest was enough to overtake the feeling of his heart wringing itself inside of him.

He cries silently, until his eyes can’t possibly produce any more tears, until he feels so out of breath he has to gasp for air, until he falls asleep with tear stained sheets and a red, runny nose.

Daichi really truly hates the loneliness, but he can’t seem to stop himself from feeling that way, especially with the empty space on the bed he always makes room for out of habit, because he used to lay beside a chaotic sleeper.

At 5am every single day, Daichi wakes up and expects the smell of coffee wafting through the air, yet every morning, he finds himself disappointed. _There is no coffee to wake up to now, Daichi,_ he always tells himself. _You make your own cups now, Daichi,_ and then he gets up to fix his bed, something he used to never do until someone had taught him that a clean and tidy bed jumpstarts your productivity for the day.

He brews his cup of coffee, absently thinking once more that by this time three months ago, he usually would hear soft hums and tiny giggles in the kitchen, as if someone were laughing and thinking to themselves. Daichi’s heart throbs for a moment at the thought, a bittersweet feeling creeping up in his chest. He smiles softly, the kind of smile you see in movies when the main character reminisces of the sweet past that is no longer.

He brings his cup of coffee (mixed with two spoons of sugar and creamer, just the way he liked it) to his desk, ready to start checking emails before mentally preparing himself to respond to the texts sent to him the night before. He takes a sip as he reads his emails, usually advertisements and newsletters. His stomach grumbles lowly, but Daichi pays it no mind. He stopped having breakfast long ago. The thought of eating by himself in his apartment makes him lose his appetite.

He mindlessly scrolls through his seemingly always full email, and he makes a mental note (like he does every day) to unsubscribe from some email notifications. He concentrates on it fully before blinking in shock. For a moment, he thought he heard a faint huff and a hand appear in his peripheral vision. He shakes his head and rests his back against his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

He remembers the times he got so immersed in his work that he, without meaning to, would go on for hours ignoring a certain someone who looked like he was going insane out of boredom. It usually ended up with the other huffing and making grabbing hands, and Daichi, ever so enthralled by the pleading eyes, would interlock their fingers together, resulting with him having to continue working on his laptop with one hand.

He never really minded though.

He tells himself, _Daichi, you’re just tired. Go get ready for work._ So, he did.

The drive to work is always the worst, as he drives by a preschool that reminds him too much of sunny smiles and warm laughter. Daichi always tries his best not to slow down in front of it like he used to do. He honestly doesn’t even need to pass by this route anymore, but he still does, because it’s what feels natural to him. It is the only thing that still gives him a sense of normalcy in this new, unknown world he now lives in on his own.

He misses the feeling of lips touching his cheek tenderly as the other side of his face gets caressed with a soft, delicate hand before hearing the words, “See you later, my love,” as he watches them exit the car and skip happily inside the preschool doors.

Daichi remembers then, that the owner of those soft lips and graceful hands never, not once, looked back at him before he drove away.

He forgets that the reason for that was because they always knew Daichi would be there, waiting outside the preschool doors at 6pm on the dot, holding two meat buns with a lopsided grin.

Daichi forgets the little things.

Work is fine. Daichi thinks that work is the one thing in his life right now that doesn’t remind him of hazel eyes that always seemed to sparkle. He denies that he immerses himself with lots of work to compensate for the overwhelming number of things he remembers about what used to be everywhere. He constantly makes himself believe that no, he isn’t unreasonably overworking himself, he is just hardworking. But his co-workers think otherwise. They think Daichi works too hard, and they often express concern for him, especially when he asks if any of them need help with anything after he just finished a task.

Daichi always thinks, as he arrives at the police station he works at, that this is the place he won’t ever have recurring thoughts about silver grey hair. But Daichi always proves himself wrong.

He remembers, as he types up incident reports on his laptop, the words he was once told back when he started his first day as a police officer.

“You’ll be a fine policeman, Dai,” he was told as he got ready, putting on his uniform and everything. “You’re already my hero, I’m sure you’ll be a hero to more people out there.”

He was given a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the head. Daichi remembers feeling small then.

“You are lucky I am generous enough to share my hero.”

And they both laughed.

Sometimes, after work, Daichi would meet up with an old friend.

They are seated far back inside his favorite library café, both enjoying each other’s company until the other realizes that Daichi has zoned out for the nth time, blankly staring at the book opened in front of him. He hasn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes.

Asahi sighs and sets his book down on the table before gently prying Daichi’s hands off the book he was holding. This was a rather normal occurrence. Being Daichi’s closest friend and the only friend he ever meets up with these days, Asahi already knew what was going on before Daichi even said a word.

He remembers something again. Something about the quaint little library café he had been going to since his high school days. The sounds of pages being turned, the smell of coffee lingering in the air, and the soft squeezes he used to feel in his hand every five minutes. He always looked up then, and he was always met with crinkled eyes and a loving smile, before both of them turned back to their books.

“He called me last night.”

Asahi nods in understanding. “I know. He told me.”

Daichi clenches his teeth and stares down at the table stiffly.

“He misses you,” Asahi starts, but Daichi is quick to shut him down with a grunt.

Asahi’s face turns grim at the sudden silence that quickly filled the air, save for the sound of the coffee machine buzzing, and pages being turned.

“Look. It’s been a while. I still don’t know what exactly happened between you two, but as someone who is close to both parties, I just want you to know that I see you both suffering,” he stiffly croaks out. “You’re not the only one, Daichi,” Asahi’s voice became softer at those words.

Daichi just wants to go home. But he isn’t quite sure where home is without the angel eyes and soft grey hair.

For the first time in a while, Daichi comes back to his apartment before 8pm.

The sun is still setting, the soft sunset peeks through the big windows of his apartment, and he remembers why he hates being here before eight.

Amidst the happy memories that haunt him every single day, Daichi remembers all of a sudden the times he wishes to forget.

It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. As much as Daichi hates to admit it, he was the cause of every rainstorm and thunder in their daily life. He knew relationships weren’t perfect. That every love story had its ups and downs. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t make himself believe it.

He blames himself for everything.

Daichi had always grown up to face things on his own. He was never one to tell people about his troubles, often opting to be quite utterly selective about the information he would give to people whenever they asked him what was wrong. Always making things seem like they were smaller than they were, but in reality, were so big that Daichi always felt small and afraid and scared to be alone.

He hates being alone, but he never really felt anything other than that.

It wasn’t until his high school best friend, with the gentle hands and a strong shoulder to cry on, slowly crept his way into Daichi’s heart and stayed. It wasn’t until then that Daichi felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t alone after all.

But of course, as with any other story, it wasn’t as easy as one might think. Daichi was quite nitpicky about certain things, always had a short temper over something so small. Looking back now, Daichi doesn’t really understand why he was the way he was. Why he used to constantly get annoyed whenever he was asked to do a simple task, or why he used to want to skin himself alive whenever soft hands reach out for his.

Daichi regrets pushing people away. Daichi regrets everything.

He remembers the time he’d lost it. The sun was setting and orange sunlight peeked through the windows. They had an argument over something quite small. He couldn’t even remember what it was all about. He just knew it wasn’t anything more important than the boy he loved. His partner had raised his voice a little too loud, a little too angrily, which acted like gas to a burning fire within Daichi.

He threw his favorite mug on the ground and watched it shatter into hundreds of tiny pieces. He was shocked at himself. For actually doing what he just did. His foot had bled slightly, a result of one of the ceramic shards hitting his skin. He looked at his lover, who stood in front of him in shock.

Daichi was never one to do things like this you see, but Daichi always feared that one day he would. And he did. He was so afraid of what he could possibly do next, that as his lover tried to console him with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, he flinched at his touch and left for the night.

After that day, things were never the same.

Daichi had found himself saying one day, “I think you should leave.”

He didn’t really mean it. He was just afraid. But as his lover prepared to pack his bags, Daichi couldn’t tell him to stop.

Daichi had watched him leave then. He felt like a child who had lost his way home.

Asahi always suggests that perhaps he move out of the apartment, but Daichi can’t bring himself to do so, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself. He remembers the good times more than the bad, and he just can’t risk losing those memories like the way he lost the one he shared them with.

Sugawara Koushi, the boy with a spacious heart and a kind soul. Someone Daichi could always rely on. Someone who, at times, laughs at inappropriate situations and someone who looks at Daichi for no reason before saying, ‘I’m proud of you, Dai.’

Daichi really couldn’t bear to forget or leave any traces of what was left of Sugawara Koushi in the empty apartment they used to share, perfect for two, too empty for one.

He developed a habit of always wiping newly washed dishes dry to immediately put them back in its respective cupboards and drawers because Koushi had taught him to do so to avoid the dishes potentially being infested by house bugs late at night. Whenever he wipes a mug dry, Daichi hums the little tune he remembers that Koushi always hummed when he absentmindedly did his chores.

When Daichi does his laundry, he folds his shirts the way Koushi used to do, because Koushi always said it was a more efficient way of doing it, and Marie Kondo said it saves space in your closet. Koushi loved watching her videos.

When Daichi craves for meat buns, he always subconsciously buys two because he got used to buying one for Koushi too.

If you were close enough to Sawamura Daichi back then, you’d know how much he has changed since. He’s patient now, always waiting. He walks slower than he used to. People can actually catch up with his pace now. He seems like the calm before the storm, the soothing breeze drifting through the leaves of the trees, waves crashing against the shore rhythmically.

Daichi never really thought about it, so he wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if one day, by some miracle granted by the gods, Sugawara Koushi would appear in front of the home they used to share.

He was still quite afraid of what may happen again. The last thing Daichi wouldn’t want to do was hurt him in any way.

He forgets the words Asahi always told him. “There can’t be no hurt in relationships, Daichi.”

Daichi doesn’t really know why Sugawara Koushi was standing in front of him right now with glossy eyes and sagged shoulders. He also doesn’t know why he let him in without a word.

“I miss you, Dai. Let’s talk, please.”

It was always Koushi who was the first to apologize, the first to cave in. Not because Daichi didn’t care, but because he couldn’t shake the thought of people being alright with him gone in their lives. He hates that most of the time, he believes the voice in his head that says, ‘ _There is no point, Daichi. Just go on with your life’,_ whenever he thought about wanting to say sorry.

Daichi doesn’t know where this talk will take them, but he does notice, that even with a quiet Koushi sitting on the couch with his head bowed down in patience and thought, the apartment seems a tad bit brighter, a tad bit warmer. As if it knew that everything is back in its place.

**Author's Note:**

> i cant believe my first haikyuu fic is angst. :| i am sorry daisuga u know how much i love you with my whole heart
> 
> anyway here's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/daisu9a) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/daichist)!


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